Monday comes sooner than it should. I probably only think this because I spend the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday holed up in my room, buried under a mountain of blankets. I don’t do any of my homework, or call any of my friends. At the very most, I peek out from under the blankets occasionally to stare around the room, or go downstairs to get a muffin or something when I’m sure no one else is home. At the very least, I lie in bed and wait for one of two things to happen; either Garen to come home, or me to stop breathing. But soon enough, my alarm clock rings and I trudge down the hall to take a shower and get ready for school. The house is too silent now. Bree is on her way to school already, and Mom and Bill are both at work. I’m completely alone.

Since I haven’t seen Garen or his car since Saturday morning, my only choice is to walk to school. It feels good to stretch my legs again, since I’ve been lying down for nearly two days straight, but the sidewalk is still covered in two inches of stupid January snow and I’m only wearing sneakers. My feet still haven’t thawed out by the time I get to school and make my way to my locker.

“So, how hard are you gonna bomb the Spanish test today?” Faye asks, appearing by my elbow. Corey slumps against the locker on my other side and snorts.

“Please. Travis has never failed anything in his life. He probably studied for the entire weekend,” he says. I dial in my combination and swing the door open, not bothering to apologize when it bangs against Nicole’s arm.

“Come on, T, give us a number. How many hours?” she asks, only frowning slightly as she rubs her elbow. I step on the neat row of books on the bottom of my locker and yank my foot back so they all scatter across the floor without me having to take them out myself.

“Zero,” I say. My voice isn’t used to working anymore, and it sounds strange even to my own ears. I shove my backpack in my locker and pull off my sweatshirt. I’m left wearing a plain yellow t-shirt, my arms and all their stupid scars exposed. I don’t even care anymore.

“Please,” Corey repeats.

“Lies,” Nicole agrees. I stoop down to pick up the books for my second and third period classes, then shove the rest back into my locker unceremoniously.

“I’m not lying. I could honestly give two shits about this test. I didn’t even touch my Spanish book all weekend,” I say. I slam the locker door shut and head for the cafeteria, the location of my first period study.

“Are you okay? You’re not really acting like yourself,” Faye says, her eyes wide. “What’s up with you?”

Took them long enough to ask.

“He got kicked out,” I say. I don’t think I can stomach saying his name. Corey grabs my shoulder to try to stop me from walking, but I shrug it off.

“Who did?” Faye asks. I glare at her, and she shrinks slightly.

“Who do you think?” I demand. Swallowing my nausea, I add, “Garen.”

“Oh my god. For what?” Nicole asks, covering her mouth in shock. “I’ve never even heard of somebody getting kicked out of here! What’d he do, call in a goddamn bomb threat?”

“Um, hello? Some of us clearly aren’t in the loop here. Can you maybe share what’s going on?”

This should be a big moment, some huge revelation. This should make me so panicked and embarrassed that I can’t even stand to stay in the school for the rest of the day, and I have to skip all my classes because I don’t want everyone to stare at me, knowing. But it isn’t like that at all. It doesn’t matter anymore. I already lost what I was really afraid to lose.

“What do you mean, ‘was’?” Corey asks. They follow me into the cafeteria even though none of them are in my study period, and all crowd onto the bench across from me as I slump down at one of the lunch tables.

“I mean I’m not with him anymore. Bree walked in on us just… together, not even in a sexual way, and she flipped out. Mom and Bill heard her and flipped out too, and Bill told Garen to get the fuck out. Talked about all this really bad shit Garen did at Patton, with drugs and guys and whatever. Said he didn’t want me to get ‘broken,’ whatever the fuck that means. So Garen just went along with it, dumped my ass, and left.”

“I can’t believe Bill kicked him out,” Corey says.

“Well, what would you have done? He’s already not thrilled with Garen being gay, or sleeping with a lot of guys, or always doing stuff he knows he shouldn’t do. I think Travis falls into that last category. I’m not happy Bill did it, but what do you expect? For him to say, ‘Oh, okay, son. Let’s just move you two into one bedroom, Evelyn and I will call off our wedding, and you guys can just go and live happily ever after.’ Come on. I’ve talked to Garen since you two got together, you know. He told me Bill even warned him, told him that he had to behave himself around you. He said you were fragile, because of, well, you know. He said Garen couldn’t act the same way around you that he acts around everybody else, that if he tried anything with you, it might send you over the edge. Garen knew all of this, he heard it loud and clear, and he still chose to get together with you. This was one thing Bill expressly forbid him to do, because it could really hurt you, and he did it anyway. I’m really sorry things turned out the way they did. But if I were in Bill’s place, I would’ve done the same thing,” Faye says.

“So, what, you think they were asking for this? What the fuck, Faye, Travis is our best friend!” Corey snaps.

“I know! Of course he is, and I’m so sorry that he has to be hurting right now. But he knew things would never work out between him and Garen,” Faye replies. They launch into it, their bickering becoming more and more heated. Nicole stares at me for several minutes before slowly rising to her feet and backing out of the cafeteria. Great. Exactly what I needed, to lose someone else. Not that Nicole was ever my best friend, but still. I can’t afford to have any more people bailing on me. Not now.

I turn sideways so I’m straddling the bench seat and lean my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands. I can feel the blood surging in my head, and the two people arguing a foot away from me doesn’t help at all. I want some way to turn off the noise, to turn off my brain. Short of dying, however, there doesn’t seem to be any way to do that.

“Hey…” says a quiet voice from directly in front of me. I snap upright, my eyes flying open again. Ben is facing me, straddling the bench just like I am, his knees almost touching mine. I exhale sharply.

“Ben, if you’re here to fuck with me some more and tell me all the sordid details of Garen’s past, I’d really appreciate it if you could just… not. I cannot deal with that right now,” I say.

“That’s not why I came over here,” he says.

“Then why did you come, Ben?” I ask. I am suddenly so tired that I can’t even force any venom into my voice. “Are you here to throw this all in my face? Or do you not even know what happened?”

A strange look comes over his face. “Travis… where do you think he went Saturday after his dad kicked him out?”

My muscles all lock into place as soon as he says that. I want to reply, to order him to tell me everything, but at the same time, I am glad I’m paralyzed now. I don’t want to ask him, because I don’t really want to know what the guy I’m in love with did in the hours immediately after breaking up with me. After several seconds, Ben seems to correctly interpret my silence.

“He was a mess when he showed up at my house,” he says finally. “It took me half an hour to get the full story out of him, because he kept breaking off in the middle of it and pacing around my room. After he eventually finished telling me, he just sat down in the corner and hugged his knees to his chest. I was terrified to leave him alone because I didn’t know what he’d do. It didn’t help that his phone was ringing every ten minutes. Every time, it was the same ringtone, and every time, he’d just say, ‘It’s Travis, it’s Travis,’ and ball his hands up in his hair. At first I tried to convince him to answer it, but he just said he couldn’t talk to you, that you couldn’t ever hear from him again. After a while, I just turned the phone off, because he really seemed to be coming even more undone because of it. We stayed up until two in the morning, when he finally fell asleep right there in the corner.”

“What happened on Sunday?” I ask hoarsely. Ben semi-shrugs.

“He was still asleep when I woke up around noon, and he stayed out until about three-ish. I went upstairs to make us both some food, and when I got back downstairs, he was awake and had changed his clothes. He told me he was leaving, that he couldn’t stay in Lakewood anymore because he knew he’d try to see you if he was still nearby, and that that would ruin everything for you. He was going back to New York, probably, but wouldn’t tell me anything more specific than that. He said it didn’t matter… because he wasn’t going to come back here ever again. He said that he might be in touch with me, but he wouldn’t make any promises. Then he hugged me, and he told me goodbye, and that he’d miss me. He said that… if you ever asked me about him, I was supposed to just tell you that his dad was right about him, and that it’s for the best. He asked me to tell you to forget about him.”

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t say that,” I say softly. Ben’s eyes move slowly down to my hand, and he reaches out to touch my ring.

“He figured you wouldn’t believe me. So he told me that if that was the case, then I should tell you that he wanted you to get rid of the ring. He said it means ‘I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine,’ and that he gave it to you on your birthday. He said… he said you’re not his anymore. And that he’s not yours.”

Ben looks away and after a moment, shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I don’t think he is. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I’m not going to lie to you. I think he’s gone for good.”

Why can’t the earth just open up and swallow me? I’d rather be six feet under than have to feel what I am feeling right now.

“I’m not taking off the ring. Whether he wanted me to or not, I’m not going to fucking do it. He can’t say I’m not his anymore and then go and try to make that choice for me,” I say, almost daring Ben to protest. He doesn’t, just nods instead.

“I figured that’s how you’d react. I don’t blame you,” he says, standing up. “I need to get to my Government class… if you need to talk, though, um…” He leans over and grabs one of my pens off the table, and scribbles seven digits on my palm. I’m suddenly forcibly reminded of the second day with Garen, of him scrawling his number down the length of my arm, right over the scars that never bothered him until the day in the alley behind the Daily Grind. “This is my cell number, okay? You can call me whenever you need to… I know we’re not friends. And I don’t expect us to suddenly become friends. But I can probably relate a lot better than they can—” he jerks his head towards Faye and Corey, who are still snapping at each other “—and I… I don’t know. We might be more alike than you think we are.”

I nod without really making the conscious decision to. My brain seems to be independent of my body now. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry, Travis. Even back when I wanted him, I never wanted you to get hurt like this. To be honest? I never really thought it could happen. I sort of thought that once he finally got you, that that would be… I don’t know. It. That you’d just be this forever thing,” he says quietly.